Kyou Dake
by kaliawai512
Summary: Today, Mokuba turns twelve. And everyone seems to know except the one he wants to spend the day with the most.


**Happy birthday, Mokuba!**

**Considering that when I posted my birthday oneshot for Yuugi (the main character), mine was the only one I could find, I wonder if I'll also be the only one to post for Mokuba's? Either way, I do hope I'm not the only one who remembered the birthday of one of the littlest members of the YuGiOh cast. Sorry, Mokie, it's true. You're even shorter than **_**Yuugi.**_

**I have no definite, certain idea of Mokuba's age other than that he was in primary school for at **_**least **_**most of the series. In Japan, primary school goes up through seventh grade, meaning that Mokuba turning twelve during the series (and being eleven during most of it) would be reasonable. Twelve and then turning thirteen is also reasonable. Ten turning eleven is reasonable as well, but I probably wouldn't go any younger than that, at least given the anime plotline. If what I've heard is correct and Seto was adopted at age ten after he had been at the orphanage for at least a year (I wouldn't think less than that, given all his memories of the time spent there), Mokuba would have to be at **_**least **_**four at adopted age, given that he had clear memories of the orphanage. That makes their age difference between four and six years, and Seto turns seventeen around or shortly after the end of the series, from my calculations. I'm taking the middle road for Mokuba's age. You are perfectly free to disagree.**

**Those of you who know my writing definitely know the drill. Based on the Japanese anime, late in canon but before the Egypt arc. No romance – but seriously, people, the characters are **_**Mokuba **_**and**_** Seto. **_**Did I **_**really **_**need to say that? Rated for vague references to minor violence. This turned out **_**way **_**more angsty than I had intended. Way longer, too.  
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**By the way, "Isono" is Roland from the dub (the duel announcer guy from Battle City). "Kyou Dake" is Japanese for "Only Today" or "Just for Today."  
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**I do not own **_**Momotaro **_**(apparently popular Japanese children's story and folktale).**

**I hope you all enjoy this! Please leave a review, I do love it when you do! Happy birthday to the conniving, innocent, adorable little brother of our favorite CEO.**

**EDIT: Finally realized that I've learned to spell Gozaburo (actually Gouzaburou)'s name wrong. Granted, I've never seen someone spell it "correctly" yet. According to the original Japanese, there's a stress on the two "o" sounds, and in Japanese, that's important. As some of you might know, I'm big on accuracy. I also changed Mokuba's names for his parents to "Tou-sama" and "Kaa-sama," as he referenced them in Season 3/Digital World.  
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_Kyou Dake_

It was his birthday, and Mokuba was not going to sleep in.

Of course, unlike most boys his age, he had never gotten into the habit of sleeping late, even on the weekends. He had gotten into the habit of occasional late nights when he was nine, and had gotten himself accidentally addicted to coffee when he was ten.

He suspected Isono was trying to switch him to de-caf. He would have to have a talk with him about that.

But this morning, Mokuba needed no extra wake-up. His eyes shot open to the bright, warm sunshine streaming in through his window, and his eyes were wide and alert from the very first moment. His mouth curled into a grin he didn't think he had worn since he was little. Or at least since last year.

Today, he was twelve years old.

He pushed himself up and leapt from his bed, feeling the mattress squeak and bounce beneath him. He almost tripped on the floor, but steadied himself and ran ahead. He grabbed the edges of the curtains and pulled them open to reveal a shining, cloudless morning. He grinned.

Oh, yes, it was _definitely _his birthday.

He was glad, he had to admit, that it had fallen on quiet times. After all the fiasco with that guy Dartz and then Nii-sama deciding to set up a whole new tournament right after arriving home, it was nice to not have anything in particular to do. Running the company, yes, but he was used to doing what he could to help with that. Running the company was easy.

Helping to save the world? Not so much.

He stretched his arms as high as they would go and leaned back until he almost heard his spine pop. Only one more year now before he became a teenager. Maybe he would even hit a decent growth spurt before then. _Yuugi _would never mock him about his height, and neither would Nii-sama, but some of the employees still looked at him strange when he gave them orders while standing on his toes and looking up just to meet their eyes.

Today was a weekend. No school. No nothing. Just one day of eating cake and ordering presents for himself on the internet, and spending time with his big brother.

He began the process of picking out an outfit—even though most of his closet still consisted of similar long-sleeved shirts and vests—and remembering where he had left the new red toothbrush one of the servants had bought him yesterday.

After all, Nii-sama would already be at work by now, and he had no time to lose.

* * *

><p>Isono was the first to greet him, but only because he was the first to run <em>into <em>him when he arrived.

Mokuba had never really viewed Isono as the type to remember birthdays. But then again, he did a lot of things around here Mokuba doubted even Nii-sama knew about: helping out, getting everything organized. He always came to work sleep-deprived and sipping espresso—something Mokuba _really _got a laugh out of from someone who was trying to get _him _off caffeine—and yet he hadn't missed a day in what felt like years.

Isono gave another small bow in greeting and respect before walking off, likely to finish another of his duties around the company.

Mokuba continued on his way.

His lips had been stretched out into a smile for so long that his cheeks were getting sore. He didn't care. Today was a good day. He would make sure of it.

He stopped at the big doors to the biggest office in the building, and, if possible, his smile grew.

He knocked.

"Come in."

Mokuba paused for only a second, then pushed open the door.

The smile that had been pulled across his face had faded ever so slightly at Nii-sama's unwelcoming tone, but he brought it back when he stepped into the room. He liked Nii-sama's office. It wasn't a _new _office at this point, it had been redesigned months before, but it was comfortable. It had taken Nii-sama a long time to re-do it after Gouzaburou had left.

Nii-sama sat in that same chair—also redesigned—and tapped at the keys in front of his computer. Mokuba thought he saw his eyes flick in his direction before going back to the screen. Mokuba blinked and grinned.

"'Morning, Nii-sama."

"Hm."

It wasn't a _completely _dismissive noise, but it knocked the grin off Mokuba's face as if someone had torn a sticker off his cheek.

He wrung his hands behind his back and tilted his head forward and down. "Um … good morning, Nii-sama?"

The questioning tone was accidental. He saw his brother shift in his seat, and this time, he was sure he glanced at him. It was still only for a moment, though. Just one moment. Then, once again, he was back at the screen.

"Yes, Mokuba, what is it?"

Mokuba blinked twice, and he tried so _very _hard not to raise his eyebrows and stare. Certainly it was just slipping his mind. Certainly this was just a flat-out mistake.

"Um … Nii-sama, what day is it?"

It was a cheap shot. A very cheap shot, and he would have smacked himself in the face for how stupid and unoriginal it was had it been any other situation. But here, it was all he had. He scowled at the desperation within himself, but he also scowled at that bright optimism that dimmed, replaced by a tightness in his chest.

Nii-sama did not look up. "Sunday."

Mokuba waited. But that was all Nii-sama said.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, just staring at him. He had a feeling Nii-sama had forgotten him, since he did not look up again, and he did not say anything else. He was silent, just typing on his computer, working, like he always did.

The door peaked open, and Mokuba turned his head.

The secretary from the fifth floor—Ariko, was it?—smiled at him and combed a hand through her obviously-bleached hair. "Mokuba-sama? Isono-san sent me … we've got a special breakfast for you."

Mokuba snapped his head back toward Nii-sama, eyes wide with hope without any attempt to restrain his emotions. He waited. But Nii-sama did not even blink. Mokuba closed his eyes and turned back to Ariko.

He gave a nod, and let her lead him toward the downstairs kitchen, leaving Nii-sama to his work.

* * *

><p>His butt had fallen asleep.<p>

He had been there an hour, if the clock on the wall was any proper indication—and Nii-sama _always _kept the clocks in the building correct down to the millisecond, so he guessed it was. For the first few minutes he had stood, but his feet had gotten tired and he had taken to sitting by the wall, making sure to make as much noise as possible when he changed positions so Nii-sama might notice him.

Nii-sama hadn't yet looked up.

And he _really _hated it when his butt fell asleep.

He put one side of his face in his palm and sighed as loud as he could. Nii-sama's fingers clicked away on the keyboard at his desk, never faltering, Nii-sama not sparing a glance in his direction. His eyes had been glued to the computer screen for so long that Mokuba wondered how it was he still didn't need glasses.

Mokuba leaned forward, and back again, and was disappointed when the floor didn't creak. He tapped his fingers on his knees as he pulled them up to his chest. There was nothing much of interest in Nii-sama's office, no games, no toys. There were no toys in this _building, _as far as he knew, and the only games were the Duel Monsters cards Nii-sama kept close every second of the day.

He took a breath.

"Nii-sama?"

Silence. His voice had come out gentle, hesitant, even though he had wanted to scream it. Nii-sama had always taught him to be persistent. He cleared his throat.

"Nii-sama?"

"What?"

Mokuba jumped when his brother's voice cut into thick awkwardness of the room. His legs slipped out from under him, and he pushed himself up along the wall as much as he could without actually standing to try and catch a better view of Nii-sama's face. Right now, all he could see was his ear behind the monitor.

He swallowed. "What are you working on?"

A pause.

"Business," came the answer, in a tone low and heavy. "Budget reports, deadlines, and communications Pegasus _insists _I keep with Industrial Illusions, all of which I _must_ _finish_ today_._"

The edge in Nii-sama's voice struck him, all too familiar. Not of Nii-sama. But of another man who had once sat at a desk just like that one—maybe even that very same desk—and looked down at him at the request of a board game, glared, pounded his fist on the table and called one of the butlers to take him to his room.

Mokuba shivered.

He spared one last glance at his brother. Nii-sama had gone silent. He didn't move his head to see Mokuba's response. His fingers tapped away, as if he was alone, and all he knew was his work. Mokuba stared for a moment and sighed, though it was so quiet it was difficult even for him to hear.

Then he pushed himself to his feet and walked out, not bothering to stop the door from swinging closed loud and hard behind him.

* * *

><p><em>The other kids got cupcakes.<em>

_ Of course, the other kids got a lot of things. The other kids were taken here by social workers. The other kids were brought by relatives who couldn't take care of them, even if they wanted to. Sure, the other kids had lost their moms and dads, too. But _they _got cupcakes._

_ Nii-sama had told him their files and information—which apparently had their birthdays—were all mixed up since they had been sent here under "weird circumstances." Mokuba wasn't really sure what that meant. Maybe that was what it was called when Ba-san put you in the car and said there was no money left and dropped you off with one bag in front of a building you've never seen before._

_ Nii-sama had smiled sadly and patted him on the head when Mokuba asked him when Tou-sama and Kaa-sama were coming to get them._

_ The orphanage lady who gave out breakfast didn't say anything to Mokuba about his birthday. She handed him his rice bowl and left. One of the bigger boys shoved the back of his head when he walked by, and the rice went splattering, half on the floor and half on Mokuba's face. The boy laughed and walked away._

_ Mokuba heard the sound of fist connecting with cheek, and the groan and thump of the boy falling to the ground._

_ He raised his head when he felt a hand touch his shoulder._

_ Nii-sama smiled at him, that big smile that _almost _made Mokuba ignore the bruise he could see forming on his brother's knuckles. He blinked, and he glanced at the hand Nii-sama held behind his back. Nii-sama smiled, and brought it out._

_ "Happy birthday, Mokuba."_

_ Nii-sama set a little toy airplane in Mokuba's hands, and Mokuba stared so hard he wondered if his eyes might pop out. He felt the smooth plastic under his thumbs, and he breathed big breaths._

_ He looked up again when Nii-sama sat down beside him, picked up his empty rice bowl, and started to fill it with the other bowl Mokuba hadn't noticed he held. Mokuba was too stunned to tell him he didn't need to share his food._

_ "I bought it for you a few months ago with my allowance." His rice bowl was almost full when Nii-sama set it back down, and Nii-sama's was almost empty. "I brought it here with me. I would have given it to you before, but I wanted it to be a surprise. Do you like it?"_

_ The smile hadn't left Nii-sama's face. He looked at Mokuba, and Mokuba looked back at him. Nii-sama's smile disappeared, and he leaned forward. In Mokuba's eyes, he started to look blurry._

_ "Mokuba, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"_

_ Mokuba squeezed the toy plane in both hands. He blinked, but the tears fell down his cheeks. He set the plane next to his full rice bowl and threw himself forward, right up against Nii-sama's chest, only to feel Nii-sama's arms wrap around him and hold him tight._

_ He stayed there for a long time, and he didn't speak, and he didn't move. But when his tears dried out and he started breathing right again, he felt Nii-sama shift him in his arms and reach one hand away. Next thing he knew, a pair of chopsticks was held in front of his face, a big clump of white rice clasped between them. Mokuba opened his mouth, let Nii-sama set the rice on his tongue, and chewed._

_ He felt Nii-sama pat his back._

_ "We'll be okay, Mokuba." This time it was a whisper, and it had been a long time since Mokuba had heard Nii-sama sound so serious. Nii-sama gave him a squeeze. "I promise."_

_ Mokuba looked up at him and smiled through the last of his tears._

_ And Nii-sama just smiled back._

* * *

><p>Nii-sama had never let him see the blade.<p>

At least, he had never _meant _him to. Mokuba would see the scars. The cuts, a few bruises. Nii-sama would smile—but the smile was always so _different_—and tug on his collar or sleeve, and say that he had tripped going down the stairs. After a while, when Mokuba asked, Nii-sama would tell him it was none of his business. After a longer time he just sighed and looked away.

But Nii-sama had never let him see the blade.

Nii-sama didn't know about the one evening Mokuba had poked his head in the study when he couldn't sleep. Mokuba _knew _it was against the rules and he _knew _he would get in trouble, but he still stood on his tip-toes and turned the knob and opened the door.

He only saw a second. A second of that butler with the scary face standing by the desk, with the knife in his hand.

And Nii-sama sitting at the desk with books in front of him, looking at the blade, staring at it, but never looking with fear. Looking with familiarity, and headstrong determination.

Mokuba shut the door.

He never told Nii-sama he had seen it. Not after Gouzaburou left, not after KaibaCorp was known around the whole world as the biggest and best gaming corporation in existence. Not after the incidents of the past were long gone, not after it was all over.

Mokuba turned around to lie on his stomach and put his chin on the pillow of the lounge couch.

It hadn't been his idea to be adopted by Gouzaburou. He hadn't even known about it, at least not in full. Not all the things Nii-sama was planning. But he had gone along with it. Nii-sama was his big brother. Nii-sama knew best.

Nii-sama was … Otou-sama.

He closed his eyes, and he saw Nii-sama's smiling face telling him it would be okay that first day in the orphanage. He opened his eyes, and he saw the fading image of his brother's scowl and anger. His eyes bloodshot after long nights awake working on budgets. His scrunched face when he banged his fist on his desk when a rival company started to catch up. His yelling voice when the new members of the board just wouldn't listen.

At the orphanage, he had _smiled._

And then he had gotten them out. And the Nii-sama he knew stayed at the orphanage, far away and forgotten. Replaced.

Mokuba breathed out.

He pushed himself up on the couch and shook his head twice to clear it. There were no sounds. Only silence, and perhaps the faint shuffling of feet as the employees worked to get all of Nii-sama's requests in. Mokuba did not hear Nii-sama. He was rather glad he couldn't.

He slipped on the tennis shoes he had kicked off, trudged down the hall to one of the smaller offices, and told Isono he was going for a walk.

* * *

><p>It was warm out, but Mokuba still wore his favorite long-sleeved shirt and vest. A part of him liked how hot he felt in the clothes. At the very least, it gave him something else to think about.<p>

He put his hands in his pockets, even though he didn't have a habit of doing so. He saw his brother doing it when he wasn't carrying his deck or a briefcase, and he thought it made him look older.

He knew this city, so he didn't need to think about where he was going. He walked by the park and around the square, and by the mall and the arcade. He paused by the card shop with the Blue-Eyes poster on the outside. His mouth twitched, but he didn't quite smile.

"Mokuba-kun?"

Mokuba turned and momentarily stared.

"Yuugi?"

It had been a long time since he had seen Yuugi. He had been staying away from public duels whenever he could—though Mokuba still occasionally saw a news story covering him, a camera crew and hoards of fans following him around until he managed to slip away.

He was the same, of course, with that same spiky hair and school uniform that he wore even though it was a weekend. He stared at Mokuba with vague surprise from a couple of meters away, and when he stepped forward the golden artifact—the Millennium Puzzle, wasn't it?—jingled around his neck.

He cocked his head. "What are you doing here, Mokuba-kun?"

Mokuba frowned.

"That's a stupid question." He shifted and glanced back at the poster of the Blue-Eyes. He gave Yuugi the tough gaze he had learned from Nii-sama. "I'm just walking. What are _you _doing here?"

Yuugi smiled, and the chain that held the Puzzle clinked as he moved a little closer and shrugged. "Just checking out the new cards."

"Oh."

Mokuba turned in full toward the poster in the window, his back to Yuugi. He heard the soft footsteps and the jingling metal when Yuugi came to stand next to him. He didn't look, but he imagined him standing there, and he realized for the first time that Yuugi was not all that much taller than him.

He felt the familiar, distinct sense of someone staring.

"Mokuba-kun, is something wrong?"

Mokuba spun back to face him. His eyes went wide, and he brought his hands close to his chest. "No, of course not!"

Yuugi blinked. He did not step back. He held his ground, though in a way so gentle and so absolutely _Yuugi. _His lips twitched up into another small grin.

"Oh. Alright. Just wondering."

Mokuba stared at Yuugi, and Yuugi just smiled at him again and turned his gaze to some of the cards displayed in the window. None of them were really all that new—Industrial Illusions hadn't seen fit to release anything fresh in a while—and Mokuba suspected that Yuugi had already seen the cards that had been out for a while.

He pressed his lips together, then opened his mouth and closed it again. He sighed.

"It's my birthday."

Yuugi turned to him, but he only saw it out of the corner of his eye. He imagined that Yuugi smiled. "Happy birthday."

Mokuba stuffed his hands in his pockets again and lowered his head so his gaze was clouded by the mess of dark hair around his face. "My brother hasn't even _talked _to me," he muttered, harsh but quiet. "All day."

A pause.

"_Kaiba-kun?_"

The voice was quiet, and Mokuba thought he heard the Puzzle jingle again. He didn't look up, and he didn't move. He listened. Yuugi let out a breath.

"But … that's not like him at all."

Mokuba spun around, and suddenly, all the emotions pushing at him forced their way out.

"I know! But every time I try to talk to him, he says he's busy." Some unknown tension built behind his eyes, and he pushed it back with all possible fervency. His voice went quiet, and he broke Yuugi's attentive gaze. "He won't even listen."

Yuugi was silent for a good half minute. Mokuba looked at his shoes, those decorated black boots that had replaced his tennis shoes sometime ago. He had looked so young when Mokuba had first met him, and Mokuba had only been ten or maybe eleven then. He looked older now. Even though Mokuba was just looking at his feet.

"Have you thought about why?"

"What other _why _could there be?" He met Yuugi's eyes again, then looked away when that strangely mature, yet gentle violet stare burned into him. He stared at the ground. "He forgot my birthday, Yuugi! His work is more important to him than _I _am!"

Yuugi sighed. It was quiet, but Mokuba heard it with ease.

"Mokuba-kun, you know that's not true."

He clenched his fists in his pockets. The force behind his eyes burned, and he shoved it back. "Yes it is! It … has to be."

His voice trailed off into quietness. He swallowed as hard as he could, but the discomfort within him remained. Yuugi still didn't move. Mokuba wondered after a few moments if he had heard him.

He imagined the sad smile he just _knew_ Yuugi wore.

"There are a lot of reasons why people do things, Mokuba-kun." His voice was still soft. And yet it held such an older feeling, such wisdom far beyond his years. Still young and naïve and horrendously _innocent, _but knowledgeable in things far beyond what Mokuba thought even Nii-sama had considered. "And … they're not always what we think."

Mokuba's lips twitched into a half-smile, though he still didn't look up.

"You sound like the … the other Yuugi."

He glanced up, and once again he saw that young-but-not-so-young grin. Yuugi let out something in between a short laugh, a scoff, and breath. The smile remained. He quirked his head. "I guess I kind of do, don't I?" His eyes flicked to the Puzzle. "I spend a lot of time around him."

"Did he remember your birthday?"

The smile grew. "He didn't even know when it was."

Mokuba's mouth fell open.

"Huh …!"

"Yeah," Yuugi whispered, and Mokuba found himself unable to look away from that imposing, now rather nostalgic gaze. "I had to tell him. Poor guy … he spent the whole day trying to figure out what was going on. But I just waited and surprised him."

Mokuba wanted to smile, but he didn't let himself. He wrung his hands in front of him, and he shifted his eyes back and forth. He saw the Blue-Eyes poster out of the corner of his eye, and he saw Yuugi still before him, smiling, waiting, the Millennium Puzzle now grasped between his fingers.

"You think …" He breathed. "… do you think Nii-sama just thinks of me as … a burden?"

"Mokuba-kun."

Mokuba looked up. For once, it was Yuugi who looked briefly to the ground, and that smile faded, if only for a moment.

"You … The things that happened in Duelist Kingdom, what I heard from your brother …" A pause, as if examining memories that streamed within his mind. Good and bad. "Kaiba-kun would have done _anything _to get you back. You're everything to him. Believe me. I know."

Mokuba just looked at him, and Yuugi looked back, and that smile came back to his face. For a split instant, Mokuba thought he saw those big violet eyes turn older and elegant, and that smile turn to a smirk. And then the kid Yuugi was back, his lips twitching upward once again.

"I'd better get back to the shop."

Mokuba took an involuntary step forward, and blinked. "Weren't you going to look at cards?"

Something flickered in Yuugi's eyes that matched his smile. "I can do that later."

Yuugi's feet moved, and he turned around and started back down the street from where he had come. He looked back and met Mokuba's gaze once more with that blatantly innocent gaze of his own, and he lifted a hand in a wave.

"See you later, Mokuba-kun."

Mokuba breathed out, and almost without realizing it, one of his hands twitched upward in a half-wave of his own.

"Bye, Yuugi."

He stood there a very long time after Yuugi had gone before he pivoted and walked back to the company.

* * *

><p>"Happy birthday, Mokuba-sama!"<p>

The chorus of voices was warm and friendly, and a little part of him smiled at it. But his mouth remained stuck in that slight frown, even though he tried to return the kind expressions all around him.

Isono brought out a big round cake coated from top to bottom in chocolate frosting, chocolate flowers on the edges, and twelve candles arranged in the center. The candles flickered and gleamed in the dimmed employee lounge as everyone began to sing. It was an odd and potentially very amusing experience, to hear the employees of KaibaCorp, usually so quiet and stoic and focused, singing "Happy Birthday" as if they actually knew how to speak English. Only the lobby secretary did, and even she had some trouble with her accent.

Mokuba drew in a deep breath and huffed it out. The flames swooshed and went out, and the entire room broke into applause as the smoke surrounded the cake and someone flicked on the lights.

He blinked to keep the smoke out of his eyes and looked around the room again, like he had when Isono had first led him in here. And again, there was no sign of the taller young man with the short brown hair and long white coat, standing by the wall, arms crossed, like Mokuba had imagined. There was every secretary in the building except for Nii-sama's personal assistant, and all the computer technicians and software engineers and even the guy who had come to fix some roof damage early that afternoon.

But no Nii-sama.

Mokuba sighed, and he forced his lips into a smile as a woman with dark hair and big eyes cut him the first—almost too large for his liking—piece of cake. She looked at him with a kind face, and for a moment he imagined she was his brother, handing him a toy plane.

He took the cake and stuck in his fork.

The first bite was perfect, but he just sat there afterwards and watched the employees laughing and talking and eating, and he waited for the young CEO who he already knew was not going to come.

* * *

><p>He told himself that he was not going to cry.<p>

Crying was weakness. Weakness was exactly what he was supposed to avoid. He was far too old to cry. He was far too old, especially, to cry at something like this.

So he was not going to cry.

He had walked home early, long before the sun set, and long before Nii-sama was to clock in for the day. It was Sunday, but Nii-sama usually still stayed past the time most of the employees had gone home. He stayed until the computer screen was the only light in his office, and his eyes and face glowed in front of it in the darkness he never seemed to notice.

Mokuba took a long bath and changed into his pajamas when night began to set in, and he sat around and watched the news in Nii-sama's home office until the clock struck ten. Then he walked back to his room, flicked out every light but the lamp, and climbed onto his bed.

Everything was quiet here, and peaceful. And he was alone. The tears behind his eyes still did not fall, and he felt himself push them back again when they threatened to spill. He would not cry. He was not going to cry. This was _his _birthday, and he was not going to cry.

He gripped the covers, and a knock sounded at the door.

Mokuba's head snapped to attention. He stared at that door as if it had committed some grandiose crime against him. He blinked and frowned. He did not speak. He waited.

After a few seconds' silence, the knob turned and the door opened with a creak.

"Hey."

The voice was quiet, and gruff, like it hadn't been used in a while. It came with an air of gentleness uncharacteristic of Nii-sama, as did the soft eyes and expression that accompanied them on the face framed with brown hair. He still wore his white coat with all the trimmings. The only things he had bothered to take off were his shoes.

Mokuba blinked at him, then broke his gaze and stared at the sheets and the yellow fabric of his pajamas. He shifted.

He heard Nii-sama clear his throat. "Hey."

"What?"

He almost jumped at the sharpness of his own tone, but he didn't take it back. He scooted himself closer to the pillow, as if to imply he was about to go to sleep. He imagined Nii-sama quirking an eyebrow.

"I was just saying hello."

Mokuba let out a breath that sounded more like a scoff.

"Really?" he muttered. The sarcasm in his voice scared him. He clenched his fists as he gripped the sheets. "That's the first time you've done _that _today."

Silence. Heavy, tense silence.

"… Mokuba."

"_What?_"

Another pause, and this time Mokuba heard the creaking of that one squeaky board under the floor as Nii-sama stepped closer.

"Mokuba, listen for a minute, I—"

"You _what, _Nii-sama!"

Mokuba did not _see _Nii-sama step back. But he _knew. _He could feel the air grow uncomfortable around them both, and when he turned his head up to look his brother in the eyes, everything looked blurred and messy. He felt the faint warmth of something trickling down his cheeks, and he did not even try to stop it.

His chest tightened, as did his grip on the sheets. "You ignore me all day, then you come in _now _and you want _me _to listen?"

Nii-sama stared at him in a way Mokuba didn't think he had ever seen him look before. Nii-sama never looked _afraid. _And he didn't now. But those stoic eyes had gone wide, and his hands had risen from their spot in his pockets and now held themselves close to his lower torso.

His brother pursed his lips and lowered his brow.

"Mokuba, if you'll just _listen_—"

"No!" Mokuba's voice cracked when he yelled, and he cringed at the sound of it. His face scrunched. "For once in your life, _you _listen!"

Nii-sama froze where he was. He didn't gawk. He hardly even stared. He just stood there. He looked at Mokuba, and with enough emotion to burst him at the seams, Mokuba looked back. He swallowed very hard and huffed a long breath.

"I … I know you have a company to run," he started, and his voice was quieter now. Calmer, laced with feeling. "I know you don't have a lot of time for me, I _know! _But … but _today, _Nii-sama, I would have thought you'd give me just a _minute today!_"

The heaviness broke him again, and a sob slipped through his defenses as the tears dripped onto his hands and fell to the sheets. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.

"And you … didn't even _remember _… you just sat there, doing your work like you always do! You didn't even _remember!_ You—"

"Mokuba!"

"What!"

Mokuba blinked to clear his vision and looked at his brother.

He froze.

Nii-sama had reached into one of the biggest pockets on the inside of his jacket and pulled out something relatively small and very thin. The outside was thicker and laminated, but he could clearly see the well-kept pages within. The cover lined with an orange frame, and the vaguest glimpse of a traditionally-painted sea and a man standing proud on his boat.

Mokuba breathed out slow, and this time, quiet. "That's …"

"Yeah."

Nii-sama looked at the book, then back at Mokuba, and back at the book. Mokuba blinked and stared at the thin volume clutched between his brother's fingers. It looked like someone had cut and paste a memory onto his sight.

His voice came out scarcely louder than a whisper.

"'Momotaro'?"

Nii-sama just nodded.

Mokuba climbed forward on the bed to get a closer look, and he barely noticed when Nii-sama stepped again toward him and held it out. "I … we left that back at the orphanage … the day we came here."

"Yeah." Nii-sama didn't meet his eyes. He just stared at the book cover, and there was a quiet melancholy in his gaze that still looked quite uncharacteristic of him. "I picked it up a while after Gouzaburou left."

"You bought _Momotaro_?"

"It's your favorite," came the soft insistence, accompanied by what was almost, but not quite, a smile. Nii-sama met Mokuba's gaze. "Right?"

Mokuba blinked, and for a second, he felt very young. "… yeah."

He stared at the book for a few more moments. Nii-sama just held it there in front of him, even though Mokuba never reached out to take it. He looked at the familiar cover and the crisp pages. He remembered how old and beat up the one at the orphanage had been, how carefully they had had to hold it just so it wouldn't split in two.

Evenings spent with Nii-sama climbing in bed next to him and reading him the story. The same, every single time, but always filled with smiles and gasps and moments of triumph.

"How'd you like to go to KaibaLand tomorrow?"

His head perked up again, and thoughts of the book swept from his mind when he saw his brother looking at him with a serious expression that fit him much better. Mokuba sat back on his heels.

"For business?"

Nii-sama shook his head. "For fun."

They were close now, only about a meter apart, but Mokuba still wondered if perhaps he had misheard him. He looked at his brother, searching his eyes for some hint of a joke, some hint of him just playing a game to tease him in the end. Not as if Nii-sama had actually _done _that before, but it was a lot easier to believe than that what he was saying was true.

He furrowed his brow.

"You mean … going on the rides, playing games, that kind of stuff?"

"Yeah."

Something in Mokuba's chest jumped up and bounced back and forth within him. He restrained it and pursed his lips. "B-but … Nii-sama, you have work—"

"It's finished." The reply was curt, and drew Mokuba to stare at him more intently. Nii-sama broke his gaze and looked again at the book, though it was clear he wasn't really _looking _at it. His brow furrowed as well, but his face reminded Mokuba of the days spent dealing with rival companies and frustrating budgets. And something else that was difficult to name. "I … would have taken off today, but the park's not usually open on Sundays, and the moronic employees _refused _to come back for _one _Sunday to … yeah. Tomorrow's off. All day. Just us."

There was such a long pause after that that anyone walking by the door that had been left open a crack would have thought they had been frozen into statues and were left to stand right there for eternity.

Mokuba turned his head away, emotions he couldn't determine swirling around in his head, and he wasn't sure if his brother looked back to him. He felt something dark inside, and something light, and they were fighting.

"You could have told me."

Another pause. Hesitance, a feature very strange for Nii-sama. "I … wanted to surprise you."

The words started out with a confident excuse, but they ended like he had to force them from his lips. As if they no longer made any sense, and he didn't understand how they had ever made sense at all.

Mokuba bit the inside of his lip.

"Yeah, well, you did a pretty rotten job of it."

He didn't need to look at his brother to feel the sting of his own response. He felt it within his chest, along with another aching pain that was getting easier and easier to name.

He swallowed and blinked away the few tears that hadn't fallen before. "… sorry."

"No." The reply came instantly this time, as if it had been waiting for the moment to show up. There was a pause, but just a small one. "You're right. I did. I was … kind of a jerk."

The silence returned, and Mokuba did not feel terribly urgent to break it. It wasn't so heavy now. It should have been. He knew it should have been. But it wasn't, and he let himself relax just a little in the vague peace of the moment, feeling the familiar but always strange sense of everything beginning to put itself back together.

He looked up, and his mouth quirked into a smile without him even trying.

"We get to ride _everything _tomorrow?"

The smile on Nii-sama's face was soft and hard to see, but it was there, and the aching in Mokuba's chest ceased. A tiny laugh escaped his brother's lips. "_Everything. _Everything you want to ride, at least."

Mokuba lowered his eyebrows. "What about school?"

"Like you don't miss class all the time anyway?"

"Yeah. Right." Mokuba chuckled, and glanced away, but this time he looked back.

Nii-sama met his eyes again. The darkness in his gaze had left, at least for the most part, and now he just looked at him. For a moment, Mokuba saw his big brother in those eyes. The big brother that smiled and gave him toy planes and told him everything was going to be alright.

"Can we get cotton candy?"

"Mokuba, I _own _the cotton candy. What color?"

"Blue."

"Got it."

The smiles felt more real now. More _there. _Mokuba allowed himself a moment, just one moment, to relish this. To believe that everything about multi-national companies and rich tyrants and magical powers his brother didn't quite believe in was gone, and there was just them, all alone, but together, in a world they were still trying to understand.

Mokuba flicked his eyes to the book he had forgotten Nii-sama was holding. "So … is that …?"

"For the bookshelf," Nii-sama answered in that usual curt tone, and he quirked the book in his fingers toward the door.

Mokuba blinked, but he looked at his hands and nodded, and he let the smile fade from his face.

He flinched and almost jumped when he felt the unfamiliar shift in the mattress as a person older and bigger slipped onto the bed next to him. The bed creaked and complained, but it was plenty sturdy, and after a moment, it quieted. It creaked again when Nii-sama adjusted himself against the headboard near the pillow with the book in his right hand, and once more when he used his free arm to nudge Mokuba in the shoulder to sit next to him. Mokuba just stared and let himself be moved.

Nii-sama offered a half-smile that looked so unnatural, almost forced, and yet absolutely fitting. "_After_ we finish reading."

Mokuba felt his own eyes grow childish and young. His fingers relaxed against the sheets in front of him, and he spent a moment just looking at the older boy next to him, who shifted again to hold the book in both hands and try to make his oversized coat not get in the way.

But the instant Nii-sama flicked his eyes back, Mokuba settled himself in and pulled the covers over the bottom half of his body. A part of a blanket dropped on Nii-sama as well, and Nii-sama didn't move it, even though it would only serve to get further tangled in his coat.

Mokuba hesitated, then laid his head slowly and gently on the big, strong shoulder of his older brother. He felt the warmth of his guardian and protector next to him, and he felt that warmth grow when one of Nii-sama's arms released the book and slipped around his back to pull him in tight.

He did not need to look to know his brother was smiling.

Nii-sama moved one finger and flicked open the book.

"A long, long time ago, an old man and his wife lived in a remote corner of Japan …"

"What corner, do you think?"

Nii-sama glanced at him, and shrugged, which almost knocked Mokuba off his shoulder. "I don't know. Okinawa?"

"That's an _island, _Nii-sama."

"Oh, is it?"

His voice was so _terribly _laced with false innocence that Mokuba couldn't hold back a laugh, even though he was beginning to feel the tiredness accompanying the dark room and warm sanctuary. He forced his eyes to stay open enough to sit up and look his brother in the eyes.

"Nii-sama! You do _business _with Okinawa!"

Nii-sama nodded slow and vague like someone who knew nothing in the world. "Right, right. Anyway …"

Mokuba giggled and settled himself in again, and this time, he noticed Nii-sama's arm around him moving him closer to the freshly-fluffed white pillows below.

"They had no children and were a little lonely. Every day the man gathered firewood in the mountains and his wife washed clothes in a nearby stream. One day, as the old woman was doing her washing, an enormous peach came bobbing downstream …"

The words slurred together, and yet remained so clear. The images played themselves out before his eyes. He tried not to let his eyelids droop. He tried, but it didn't work. He only just felt Nii-sama's arm move him closer to the pillows and close against his side as he read the story, and he only just noticed the clarity of his awareness slip and fade.

His lips twitched into a smile, and he joined in for that one moment, even though the words were so far off in his memory. They returned for him, and he felt like the samurai boy of the story, standing tall and proud to the enemy.

"We've come to punish you for plaguing my countrymen!"

Nii-sama's voice melded with his, and together, they were the brave samurai, and nothing could defeat them.

His eyes slipped closed.

"Thereupon, Momotaro loaded the treasures onto a boat and, joined by his small but feisty party, headed back home with it in triumph."

His brother's arm patted his shoulder as his head came to rest on the pillow, and in the darkness, Mokuba heard the kind and caring words whispered as he faded from consciousness and into the safe arms of his dreams.

"The end."

* * *

><p>He hadn't particularly <em>expected <em>Mokuba to fall asleep after the story. Half of him had expected Mokuba to tell him he was far too old for children's books—and really, Seto didn't even know _why _he still had that book lying around in the first place.

But his little brother had fallen asleep with a smile on his face, and that was all that mattered.

He slipped the book onto the nightstand and switched off the lamp. He only had to blink once to adjust to the dark, and as he opened the door, he caught sight of a new coffee maker in the corner of Mokuba's bedroom he did not remember buying.

He wondered if Isono had managed to wean him onto de-caf.

The door shut as quietly as it ever would behind him, and he began his shuffle down the hall. Everything was quiet here. The servants would be cleaning up the kitchen right about now, given that he had let them off early for the evening, so he was the only one upstairs. He paused for just a moment and listened to the quiet, the peace, the silence when there had been so little silence in his life recently. Then he shook his head and walked back to his office lounge.

His computer automatically booted up upon his entering—a tidbit he had installed after Battle City out of boredom but hadn't had the chance to install at the company office yet. But he noticed that it took only a moment to wake from sleep, as if someone had come in a while before and the computer hadn't yet decided to shut back down.

Then he noticed the blanket that had been left hanging over the couch by the TV remote, and something in him cringed.

He sat down at his desk.

He had only gotten a few of his documents open when the phone rang out its familiar and horrendously annoying buzz. Seto rolled his eyes and picked up the receiver.

_"Seto-sama?"_

Seto tapped his fingers on the desk. "Yes, Isono, what is it? It's pushing eleven, you know."

There was a pause on the other end. _"Oh, um, yes sir. I was just wondering what you would, um, like for me to schedule for the other employees for tomorrow? Given that Seto-sama will be taking the day off …"_

"They will come into work, as usual." He pressed the phone against his ear almost without realizing it. "Just because _I _am taking one day off my schedule doesn't mean everyone _else _is. Tomorrow is Monday. Everyone who works Mondays should _show up on schedule._"

_"Y-yes, Seto-sama! I was just …"_

"Sounding like an idiot."

_"… y-yes. Well, then, goodnight, Seto-sama."_

Seto clicked the phone back into its cradle.

The documents, the budget plans, and all his other work copied from the company office lay before him. He stared at it, let his hand linger over the mouse, then, after a moment, turned the monitor off and let the computer shut down.

Maybe he could go to bed early today. Just this once.

He felt a yawn in his throat, and he quickly stifled it and blinked. He shed the jacket he had never bothered to take off and began the annoying process of putting all of the floppy disks one of the servants had left for him into the desk drawers for the night.

He opened the top drawer, and paused.

At one point or another, he had stuffed about twenty different floppies—all perfectly labeled, mind you—in that drawer for easy access. He didn't like using old technology, but it was reliable, if nothing else. Not everything was copied over the company network, and he liked to have his own back-ups on hand.

But for the first time in a long time, he noticed a piece of paper poking out from under the disks. A little white piece of paper about the size of a card, with blue crayon scribbled near the middle.

He pulled it out.

The image of a messily-drawn Blue-Eyes White Dragon stared back at him. It wasn't very elegant, or skillful, but he wouldn't have expected any more from the hand of a six-year-old. It had always looked so beautiful to him, and in the back of his mind, the memory flashed of the evening sitting worn down from hours of studying, only to open the new textbook he had been given to find his cards.

And hidden in the very middle, a handmade Blue-Eyes.

A smile he could not quite keep back tugged on the corners of Seto's lips, and he ran a soft and almost hesitant finger over the drawing. The paper had since yellowed in places, and the edges were frail. But it was still here.

He cleared a space near the front of his desk with his free hand and set the card against one of his pencil cases so it stared back at him, proud and magnificent. Seto gave it a nod.

"Happy birthday, Mokuba."

A yawn slid past his defenses, and with a scowl and a roll of his eyes, Seto stood from his chair and trudged off toward his bedroom. Tomorrow was an early morning, and he would need to make sure to get as much sleep as his trained mind would allow.

After all, he was going to have a _lot _of work to catch up with on Tuesday.

He paused for just a moment as he passed by Mokuba's room, and that smile twitched back onto his face when he heard the soft sounds of breathing inside. He placed his hand on the door and imagined he could feel his little brother through the thick wood. Peaceful, happy, and always growing.

Then he turned and headed off to sleep.


End file.
